


Kintsugi

by The_Changamire



Category: Happy Sugar Life (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Aichmophobia, Anger Management, Asahi Deserves Better, Cause they do, Depression, Did I Mention the Koubes Need Therapy, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Family Issues, Friends to Lovers, Helpful Deity, Matsuzaka Satou Needs To Be Put Away, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pyrophobia, Shio Deserves Better, Shio Koube Gets Rescued, Shouko Hida Deserves Happiness, Stockholm Syndrome, Survivor Guilt, The Koubes Need Therapy, Therapy, Time Travel, When I say everyone has issues I mean EVERYONE, and so does Shouko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Changamire/pseuds/The_Changamire
Summary: Asahi returns home after visiting Shio a little more broken than when he left, and cries himself to sleep for the first time in years.Only, when he wakes up, he finds himself in his bastard father's home, twenty-four hours before his death. He can't remember how, but to him, it doesn't matter.Join Asahi as he once again attempts to pull his broken family together again, with a little bit of help, and a little bit of love. [Time-Travel]
Relationships: Koube Asahi/Hida Shouko
Comments: 34
Kudos: 81





	1. Let Me Save Them

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because my boy Asahi needs more love. Man braved years of abuse and a fire for his family only to be rewarded with absolutely nothing.
> 
> Also, Shouko. She deserves much better, so I shall endeavor to do so.

His sister was dead.

Asahi had been unable to pursue her as she and her kidnapper fled to the top of the burning building. Despite every fiber of his being telling him to _go, save her!_ He knew that Shio's life was no longer in his hands.

So he had left managing to escape the raging inferno before it reached its crescendo. As he passed by _her_ door, he paused, the scent of burning flesh causing a new wave of tears to flow. His only friend was burning, and there was absolutely nothing he could do, save close her eyes and move on. He continued his escape, but not before muttering a prayer for her soul. He owed her that much, at least.

It was only five minutes after he reached the bottom of the apartment complex did he see them fall. He had screamed then, incoherently, and rushed towards where they would land in a futile attempt to mitigate Shio's fall.

He didn't make it.

He fell to his knees and moved no more.

It was only when a firefighter roused him from his stupor to pull him away from the fire that he saw the paramedics shouting frantically and realized that someone had survived the fall. Hope blossomed in his chest once more as he made his way to the ambulance. To his unimaginable relief, he saw Shio, breathing, albeit injured, being loaded into a ambulance. After informing the paramedics of his identity as her older sibling, he was allowed to accompany them to the hospital.

Shio was unconscious for an entire week.

In his waking hours, all Asahi could think of was making sure he was by her side when Shio finally woke up from her slumber. When not worrying about his sister's condition, he was working with his mother and local child-services to prepare for life without her. She had no intention of letting her crime go unpunished, and planned to turn herself in. " _It's for the best, Asahi. I'm not fit to be a parent of any kind._

_Watch your sister better than I have."_

Asahi would do it, he had promised-- for his sister, his mother, and himself.

Oh, what a lie that had been.

The hour the hospital phoned home to tell him Shio had woken up for the first time in seven long days was, Asahi thought, the best moment of his life. He had rushed to phone his mother, then had rushed himself down to the hospital. On his way, he stopped by the florist and used what little money he had to buy a bouquet in celebration. With a smile on his face for the first time since his father died, Asahi went to go see his sister.

Only to find out she was dead as the flowers he held in his hands.

The Shio he knew, his _sister Shio,_ was gone. Instead, she was replaced by whatever that pink-haired girl had been, wiping away all traces of the sister he had suffered so much for.

Her eyes were cold.

He left the hospital, passing his mother without a word, and went home. He went about his day, cleaning up around the house and doing the odd jobs his mother and supplied him with. And when nightfall came, he went and checked the main bedroom for his mother, and found she wasn't there.

A long time ago, Asahi had vowed to stay strong for his mother, then for Shio. He would not scream, he would not cry. He would be a pillar of support for his family.

But his family was broken, or dead, he reasoned. Therefore, his vow was null. And so, he let his barriers drop, and _finally_ , after years of abuse, neglect, and cruelty, he broke.

That night, Asahi cried himself to sleep.

* * *

/\/\/~Kintsugi~\/\/\

* * *

"Wake up, Kōbe Asahi."

Asahi groaned in annoyance as he sat up, slowly blinking away the sleep from his eyes. A decent night's sleep was rare for him, and he despised being woken up before he could actually rest, but sadly he had grown used to it.

He gave his room a glance, nearly falling back into bed before realizing that he was _no longer in his room._ Startling himself out of bed, he craned his neck in every direction instinctively looking for a exit. He found none, and his panic began to mount. The darkness stretched as far as the eye could see. He a calm thought breached his panicking mind.

_Am I dead?_

On a subconscious level, it frightened him that if the answer was yes, he would fell relieved. But, on the other hand, what was there to live for, anymore? His sister was indoctrinated with something that Asahi did not want to face nor had any counter against. His mother was most likely going to be incarcerated by the end of next week, and as far as he knows, he had no extended family in the country, if anywhere at all. He hadn't been to school in months, and he no money to reply, killing his future in its infancy.

He realized, with a start, that the only thing worth living for had been his family, and now that was no more.

_Why not embrace death?_

He turned, facing away from his bed, ready to march into the yawning void.

He was dully surprised by the dark figure looming over him.

Asahi held back his tears. Yet another had come to revel in his pain. "Have you come to torment me too? Can't I just... die? Or am I not even allowed that?"

The (angel? spirit? deity? reaper?) Kami reared in surprise at his apathetic greeting. It seemed to shrink before Asahi's eyes, eventually stopping at a height that put it's eyes just above his.

Then, it spoke.

"...You have been punished enough in life for events out of your control. I will inflict upon you no further harm." The figure seemed to conjure two chairs and a table from thin-air, and sat down in one. To Asahi's surprise, the entity invited him to do the same. "It would be against common courtesy to not offer you a seat.

Asahi narrowed his eyes and the entity, but sat gingerly on the chair nonetheless. "...Thanks." A few moments of silence passed before the dark-haired boy spoke again. "Why am I here? Am I… aren't I dead?" He _should_ be dead, Asahi knew that much.

He had known that much when he had emptied his father's sleeping pills into his hand and swallowed them in one go.

The Kami shook its head. "No, you are not dead-- though you should be. Were it not for your musubi, I would not have been able to save you."

Asahi blinked. _Musubi? My string? What is he--_

"I have brought you to a place beyond Time," the Kami continued on. "Your body may be dead, but your soul persists." The explanation did nothing to ease Asahi's suspicion or confusion. "But… why me? Why this place? What's so special about me that you decided you wanted to speak with me?"

"Nothing."

The boy's confusion only seemed to mount, so the Kami explained.

"I have been watching you for some time, Kōbe Asahi. You have gone through many hardships for your family, something which I greatly admire. You took beatings, endured the outer elements, braved a fire to keep you family together-"

"And it was all for nothing," Asahi cut in, bitterly. "It all fell to pieces and I-" The hopelessness of his situation once more came crashing down on him, and it took all his willpower to keep his composure from breaking. "I can't do anything. I'm useless. You chose the wrong person."

The entity was silent, seemingly content with allowing Asahi to ramble, which he did. He had no idea who this stranger was, but he desperately needed someone to listen to him, to _understand_ him.

Only one person had done that before, and he had never gotten the chance to truly thank her before she had met her undeserved end.

He still felt her lips on his, sometimes.

The Kami watched him with immeasurable eyes, with what looked like…

Pity?

No... something else. Understanding?

Asahi decided not to dwell on it.

The two did not speak for a few moments, before the Kami spoke again.

"What if I told you I could send you back?"

_...Huh?_

"Wh-what do you mean by that?" Asahi stammered slightly, caught off-guard. What kind of question is that, anyways?"

"I can send you back through the canals of time. I can give you a chance to redo everything, to save those you matter to you most.

You can save your family, Asahi."

The teen's mind spun. A chance to make things better? To save his sister?

_...Shōko?_

"You… you aren't kidding, are you? This isn't some cruel joke? I can really go back?" _This- I can change everything!_

The entity nodded. "Indeed. I will also grant you one boon. It is impossible for you to save your family when it is broken. It is like a porcelain bowl, your family, with the potential to be well made, but shattered into ugly fragments. This boon I will grant shall be the gold to your broken bowl, your kintsugi, if you will."

The Kami fell silent, once more seemingly content in watching Asahi wrestle with the thoughts inside his head. When the teen finally turned to him again, there was a fire in his eyes that had not been there before.

The Divine Wind smiled. "Do you accept?" He held out a hand, and it lingered just in reach of Asahi.

The boy, slowly, but with no hesitation, reached out and reciprocated the Kami's gesture, and they shook.

"Let me save them."

The entity nodded, pleased. "Best of luck to you. May your life be healthy and good. May your musubi guide your rigthoues path. _Sayōnara,_ Kōbe Asahi."

And, before Asahi could ask what the entity meant about his string, the Kami suddenly flashed gold, emitting a heavenly light, and Asahi saw no more.

Then he woke up in his father's home, a day before his death.

* * *

/\/\/~Kintsugi~\/\/\

* * *

_**Kintsugi** : Kintsugi, also known as Kintsukuroi, is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum_


	2. Let's Try this One More Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmguess who's back~
> 
> Back again~

He screamed.

Later, he would thank whatever deities above there were that his bastard of a father had already left the house so his scream went unheard, but Asahi thought he was allowed to have such a scream because he was back, _he was back, oh gods, please, not again--_

Then he remembered. This… had already happened, hadn’t it? Yes, it was coming back to him now. He remembered that this was the day his father died at his mother’s hands. This was the day he learned that Shio had been abducted and alone for nearly two months, being held hostage by both some sort of Stockholm Syndrome and _her_.

This was the last day he could actually recall feeling some modicum of happiness, not counting a memory of a black-haired girl's lips on his.

_Gods, Shouko._

He would save her this time, he swore as he rose from his futon. He would bring his fractured family together and heal them, piece by piece, day be day, if need be. He would see to it that Satou was put behind bars, or at least _very_ far away from his loved ones. 

Or six feet under. Asahi knew which option he preferred.

He would find a black haired girl, somewhere in the next city over, and offer to be her Prince.

Asahi wasn’t stupid. He knew things weren’t going to be easy for him to accomplish, but accomplish these things he would, even if it killed him. Shouko died last time to ensure he got his sister back, and he would not spit on her memory by letting this chance go to waste.

Although... how he got this chance, he was not sure. 

The purple-haired boy clothed himself, and prepared for the day. Wandering into the kitchen, he located the knife he knew his father kept (formerly out of his reach, but he knew where it was now), the lighter, and a small trash can.

His mother wouldn’t be the one to suffer jail time for his death.

He would only suffer a few months, a year at most. Assuming they caught him, and he would make sure they wouldn’t before he found Shio.

He was fine with that.

And so he waited for his father to come home, although whether he would come home from whoring, drunk, or in a rage, he did not know. He had made himself scarce the last time he had lived through his day; indeed, he never stayed inside his ~~prison~~ home if he could help it, preferring to spend some nights outside rather than in.

Of course, it only made whatever punishment his father had contrived worse whenever he returned.

That was how he lost his nails.

Morning turned to noon, and noon to evening. Asahi sustained himself by looting his father’s meager food supplies, usually forbidden to him, but, in his unique scenario, he threw away his restrictions on the basis of two things;

_**a)** His father will be dead, therefore, he won’t be needing to eat anything but rock, dirt, and worms._

_**b** ) If he botched this up, his father was going to beat him to death anyways._

The sun was beginning to set when he heard the door open quietly. Cautiously, a kitchen knife in hand, Asahi left his room to go see if his father’s time was at hand. Hiding behind a wall, he carefully peered past it, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Only, there would be no such moment, for the person at the door was not his father

Instead, it was Asahi's mother who stood in the doorway, whose determined look turned to shock when she saw him there, and she rushed to him and wrapped him in an unexpected but welcome. “Asahi, darling,” she smiled. "It's been so long."

He couldn’t help the tears escaping his eyes. “Mom…”

She squeezed him gently, lovingly, and Asahi leaned into it. “Don’t worry, sweetling. I-- I’m going to make things better. Just stay outside, and don’t come back in. There’s something I need to do.”

Before Asahi could persuade his mother that _no, you shouldn’t be the one to kill him, you don’t deserve to go to jail, let me,_ there was a knock on the now open door. They both flinched backwards in horror, and Asahi’s mind raced. 

_Is he already back? No no no, please no! Not with mom--_

His panic attack was cut short by him recognizing that the man standing just outside was in fact _not_ his bastard father, but a police officer with remorseful smile. “Is this the Kōbe residence?”

Asahi’s mother let him go, shifting in front of him protectively, and his heart clenched. “Y-yes, it is.”

The officer nodded his thanks at the question's confirmation. “Then... I'm asuming Kōbe Nokombi is either your spouse, or the father of that child?”

At this point, they were both frozen in place, and Asahi honestly considered just stabbing the officer, grabbing his mother, and making a run for it.

Yet, he did not move, and neither did his mother. “Y-yes, he’s my-- my husband.”

The officer nodded, and took out a notepad. His smile faded, leaving a consolatory expression on his face. “Is that so... In that case, I'm sorry to inform you, but at seven thirty-five today, Kōbe Nokombi was shot dead in a bar fight just downtown. My condolences”

Silence.

The two Kōbes stood there, stunned at the news they had just digested. The stillness persisted for a moment.

Then Asahi laughed.

He duly noted that it was the first time he had genuinely laughed in a long, long time.

It wasn’t long before his mother grinned, as if the sun had finally emerged from a sixteen year-long storm. She embraced him, and then they cried.

The officer was, quite obviously, confused, so Asahi released himself from his mother, smothered his laughs, turned, and bowed to the officer. “Thank you for bringing us this news, officer, but, as you can see, he’s not particularly liked around here.”

Asahi froze when the officer’s eyes narrowed at him, seemingly judging him. Then, in a surprise, he turned to his mother, face downcast. “...I see.” He shook his head in disgust. “Domestic violence is one of those cases that we as law informant are woefully unprepared to deal with. While I don’t know the man, his death seems to have relieved you of suffering, so I’m glad I could help in that, at least.”

His mother nodded slowly. “...Thank you, officer.” With that, she turned away, seemingly about to usher Asahi and herself into the house, before the officer's next words stopped them in their tracks.

“But,” the officer continued, “your son looks rather worse for wear. When was the last time he's been to a hospital?”

Yuuna was quiet for a moment before replying, voice despondent. “...not since his birth. Nokombi never really let me leave the house until Sh--” She cut herself off abruptly and Asahi himself winced, correctly deducing that his mother could not bear the thought of her other child that she had left in an alleyway, but the officer seemed to get the gist of the message. Turning away from them for a moment, he dialed a number on his phone before holding it to his ear.

“Oi. Yeah, I brought them the news. Speaking of which, I want to end my shift early tonight. These folks look like they could use some help. Can Hiro cover for me? Great. Thanks.”

_...he wants to help us?_

Asahi was immediately on his guard. All adults were liars, save his mother, that much had been ingrained into him by his sixteen years of living...

But... he would admit, a hospital sounded like heaven right now. The wounds hidden beneath the many bandages he wore ached, just as they always did. Yet another pain Asahi had learned to live with, yet he would prefer it if they were gone.

But, ultimately, it was his mother’s choice to decide if they went with him or not, and he would trust her decision, whatever it might be.

Getting off the phone, the officer seemed startled for a moment, before turning back to them. “I’m sorry, it seems I forgot my manners. My name’s Samariajin Yoki. Or Officer Sam, as I'm called around here. Rolls off the tongue easier, I think.”

Yunna bowed. “A pleasure, Officer Sam. May I inquire what you meant as in ‘help’?”

Officer Sam snapped his fingers. “Ah, right. Your son looks like he’s in dire need of a hospital, and you look like you need a good night’s sleep. If you wish, I can drive you over to the hospital, and you two can spend the night there.”

Yunna startled at that. “But-- I don’t have the money to pay for--”

“You--” Officer Sam interrupted, “--are not paying anything at all. _I_ am. I have plenty of money to spare, and you two look like you could use all the help you can get." Then the officer's face took on a sheepish expression. "Of course, it’s your choice. I’d never force you.”

Gods, he sounded so _genuine._

Asahi wanted to trust him. He did not know why, but he very much wanted to-- however, he wanted his mother to feel safe more than he wanted to trust in another adult, so he turned to look at her, his gaze questioning. 

_You choose, mom. I trust you._

Yuuna hesitated for a moment, then hesitated some more, and, all the while, Officer Sam waited patiently. Asahi actually caught his eyes, but the man simply smiled. _Everything will be okay,_ the smile said, and Asahi oh so desperately wanted to believe him.

His mother shifted, then moved towards the officer. To Samariajin’s surprise, Yuuna hugged him, and Asahi heard a quiet sob.

“Thank you.” 

Samariajin looked at him, and Asahi glared at the adult, a warning in his.

_You have my mother’s trust. Don’t break it, or I'll make you regret it._

He nodded back carefully, and Asahi, for the first time, felt satisfied in the promise given to him by the adult.

* * *

/\/\/~Kintsugi~\/\/\

* * *

The drive over to Yuuji Hospital was quite, but calm. 

Samariajin had taken off his officer hat and seemed a bit more laid back, conversing quietly with Asahi’s mother, who sat in the front of the cruiser with him. Yuuna, for once, felt free to speak with the good Samaritan that had seemingly come in from nowhere, as if heaven-sent.

Asahi was just content in thinking.

_Should I tell someone? Of what I know, what I lived?_

He immediately dismissed the idea. _No_ , _they’d never believe me. I need evidence if I’m going to get_ **_her_** _out of the way_ _and free Shio._

It had to be soon, though, before Shio’s mind was irreversibly damaged, at least, more so than it already was.

By the time they arrived at the hospital, he was sleepy. Yet, he got up, and went with the two adults to the front desk, where he was prescribed a room and several nurses to see to it he was treated.

Before he fell asleep for the night, his mother came to visit, him, and, in a shaky voice, she confessed to him what had happened to Shio, something Asahi appreciated her not hiding. Even so, before he let sleep take him again, he grabbed her hand. “I’ll save her,” he mumbled sleepily. “Then we’ll be a family again. Right, mom?”

The last thing he saw before he fell asleep was his mother's smile.


	3. The Good Samaritan

He woke up in a bed that most certainly did not belong to him.

He also woke up to find that the aches of injuries that had been a constant presence for gods-know-how-long had faded, leaving him feeling nothing, in the good way.

The bed was soft.

Shifting inside the blankets, Asahi blearily took in his surroundings, noting that he was no longer in a hospital, but a quaint, unassuming room. There was a shelf in one corner, a desk in another, and one more bed besides him, with his mother’s jacket laying upon it.

That was what woke Asahi up in full, fear for his mother screaming through his head as he scrambled out of bed and made for the room’s door.

The hallway, to his surprise, was that of a normal house (and not the torture chamber his sleep-ridden mind had conjured upon awaking, thank the Kami), a set of stairs evidently leading downstairs lying halfway between his door and the one on the end of the hallway.

_Where am I?_

“Asahi!”

His mother’s voice echoed from downstairs, and Asahi rushed towards it, though slightly slower than before.

She sounded… at ease. Content.

The anxiety began to ebb.

Descending from the stairs, Asahi turned into what was apparently the home’s kitchen, which in turn led to the dining room. To his relief, and mild surprise, both Yuuna and mister Samajiarin were seated at a table, coffee mugs in hands, a TV droning in the background. The two had obviously been conversing before Asahi woke, and called for him after hearing his commotion upstairs.

Samariajin (would it just be easier to call him Yoki? Samariajin was a _really_ long name, Asahi wondered to himself) shot a welcoming smile his way, a split second after his mother did, and Asahi smiled back. “‘Morning, mom. Good morning, mister Samariajin.”

His mother beamed at him ( _Gods, how long had it been since she had been this happy? So unburdened?_ ) and Yoki dipped his head in acknowledgement. Sliding into a chair besides his mother, who he leaned into near-instinctively, he reveled in the bliss of the moment, before asking a question. 

“Um, where exactly are we? This isn’t the hospital.”

Yoki and his mother shot each other a quick look (which he noticed, and wasn’t sure what to make of it) before Yuuna answered. “The nurses patched you up rather quickly, then recommended we bring you home. And since _that place_ wasn’t an option, Yoki let us stay here for the night.”

“And as long as you need to,” Yoki reminded her, and Asahi’s mother nodded thankfully.

Asahi himself just stared.

_Who is this guy, this adult, who came out of nowhere? Why is he so willing to help us?_

As the two adults fell back into idle conversation, the purple-haired teen pushed away all thoughts of the circumstances behind the appearance of Yoki in their lives, and begun to plan for his trip to the next city over.

His sister was still held captive (by _her_ and Stockholm Syndrome) and he needed to move quickly if he was to bring her home.

Asahi would fix his broken family for good, and gods help whoever got in his way.

* * *

/\/\/~Kintsugi~\/\/\

* * *

Instead of leaving immediately, he decided to wait until nightfall, wanting to soothe himself in the warmth Yoki’s home provided.

As it turned out, despite living in Japan for the better part of his life, the police officer was actually Irish by birth, which apparently explained his red hair and beard, and had moved to Japan when his parents got transferred for some job they did. Eventually, they decided they liked it too much to move again, and they settle down. Yoki’s parents now lived somewhere in the rural areas, his sister working overseas, and he remained to keep the town he’d grown up in safe.

Asahi found he quite liked the man.

Although, come to think it, his opinion might be biased because of his mother, but he was fine with that.

His mother deserved the world, Asahi knew, and it seemed to be a sentiment that Yoki shared.

It was nice, knowing that his mother would be safe if he left. He knew, for some odd reason, that Yoki would take care of her.

After all, he’d already done that, hadn’t he? Stopping her from committing murder, albeit unkowingly, taking him to the hospital, letting them rest in his home.

If Asahi didn’t know any better, he’d proclaim the man to be a godsend.

A memory buried deep in his head seemed to push itself to the forefront of his mind, before Asahi shrugged, and the strange feeling was gone.

* * *

/\/\/~Kintsugi~\/\/\

* * *

Night had fallen, and Asahi knew it was time to go.

He knew the bus route to the part of the city Shio was, having traversed it before with the little money he’d been scrounging up before his bastard father’s death before spending the rest on Missing Person posters. 

Asahi took a shuddering breath. 

The last time he’d done this, it had taken far too long for him to find his sister, forcing him to resort to… _other_ measures that he’d rather not use this time around.

This time, he knew where his target lay.

Finishing the note he was writing, he left it on his mother’s bed where she would easily find it when she returned to bed, shouldered the pack of food and change of clothes (courtesy of Yoki again) and snuck out of his room and down the stairs. His mother and Yoki were still conversing with each other, this time sitting on the couch instead of at the table.

Asahi was about to make for the back door when he heard a chocked sob, and spun around.

Yuuna was sobbing into Yoki’s shoulders, arms wrapped him, and the man seemed to be soothing her. Asahi overheard several key words, most prominent was _“Shio,” “My fault,” “Horrible mother”_ and the like.

His resolve hardened.

_Give me time, mom._

_I’ll fix this._

He slipped out the backdoor, no one the wiser, and caught the first available bus to the heart of Kana-Shi City.

Somewhere, the last broken fragment of his family was waiting for him to save.

And, gods be good, he’d do so.

_(And maybe meet a raven-haired princess on the way)._


	4. Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One is the loneliest number.

As much as he wanted to, Asahi could not sleep.

He had paid his bus-fare as soon as he hopped on, then plopped down in his seat and waited for the bus to leave. Just as the bus rolled onto the main street, he caught sight of both his mother and Yoki turning the corner in a rush, obviously having set out to find and retrieve him.

Asahi’s mouth set in a hard line, and it stayed that way even when he lost sight of them. When the buss pulled on to the highway, he sighed. Asahi, when writing his explanation to his mother, had deliberately excluded where he was going to rescue, unwilling to put them in the sight of that _murdering, psychopathic, godforsaken spawn of a whore--_

…

“Alright. Anger issues are still a thing,” he muttered softly to himself, shaking his head. When this was all over, he’d be needing therapy, he knew. Hell, everyone in his family was going to need therapy, by the looks of things. His mother had a mental breakdown, which led to this problem in the first place--not that he blamed her, he would _never_ blame her for this, or anything in his life thus-far (though that did not diminish the miniscule voice in his mind that did), Shio had some form of Stockholm Syndrome most likely, and at the premature end of his last life had definitely ended up with some form of survivor’s guilt, and something… else. Something full of _her_.

It was then that Asahi came to a sudden realization.

Though he had been brought back to save his family (by who or what, he did not know, it was as if he had forgotten something important), it was entirely possible he could fail. He was only human, after all, and it was clear that _she_ had much more physical prowess than him, at least in weaponry. She might simply kill Shio to keep her away from him; he wouldn’t put it past her to do so.

If that was the case…

If, gods forbid, Shio _died_ because of her…

His fists clenched, enraged at the thought.

_Fuck the law, or morals. If that happens, I’m going to hunt her down to the end of the Earth and make what she did to Shouko look like a campfire._

_I’ll fucking tear her apa--_

Asahi stopped that train of thought, and inhaled deeply, before exhaling.

“...therapy, yeah. That’s a good idea.”

... _Gods_ , his life sucked.

Asahi fell silent, content to simply remain in his spot, and the bus continued down the road to Kana-Shi. Shifted in his seat, eventually, he chose to lay down on the one to his immediate right; the bus ride would be two hours all in all, and it had been near-eleven when he left Yoki’s house. Lying down would help keep the tiredness at bay, and gave him time to think.

Of course, even his mind did not give him respite.

* * *

/\/\/~Kintsugi~\/\/\

* * *

It was thirty minutes later before Asahi realized the universe had played him an error.

_...Today is Friday._

Fuck.

Shit!

Public Transit Services didn’t operate normally on weekends, and some routes were omitted. _Like the route to Yoki’s home. Or mother’s._ And he didn’t have the money to call a taxi for such a long distance back, which meant…

Which meant…

He’d be stuck in that city for three whole days. With _her_. With nowhere to sleep. No food, no water, and just enough stolen money (from Yoki, he hadn’t had time to go back to his bastard father’s home to grab his stash) for two or three bus tickets.

Asahi let out a shuddering sigh. He hadn’t even arrived to the area Shio was and _already_ things were going wrong.

_What am I going to do?_

Leaving Shio with _her_ until he could find a route back after the work-week started was not an option Asahi would entertain-- the longer she stayed there, the more of a mental hold Satou will have on his sister, and that was not something he was willing to let continue any longer than it already had.

Getting Shio out would be first priority upon getting of this bus (the second being _find a baseball bat_ ), and that was simple enough. Asahi knew that his sister's captor went to school and had an afterschool job, assuming he recalled correctly, so it was simply a matter of breaking in while she was gone and whisking Shio away.

But where?

Until transit lines started their weekday routes, he was going to be stuck in Kana-Shi, and under no circumstances would he let Shio sleep under some bench, absolutely not.

So where could they--

...Oh.

Aah.

Within the city, besides Shio, there were three other people he’d acquainted himself with. The guy who pedo’d after his sister ( _Taiyo Mitsuboshi, that was his name_ ), Satou Matsuzaka (his raged spiked at the thought of her name)...

And Shouko.

Undoubtedly, the prettiest, most kind-hearted girl he had ever met. A girl who, unlike most people Asahi knew, did not pretend as if her problems were non-existent, but shoved them aside to help others in theirs regardless.

She was the only person in that city he could trust completely, despite not having met her this time around.

And, thankfully, Asahi knew her home address by heart-- though, he would have been hard-pressed to forget it, two lives or no.

After all, he had been the one to inadvertently lead her to her death. Who else was there to explain her passing to her parents but him?

He had owed her parents an apology, and owed Shouko herself a debt he had never been able to repay, and most likely never would.

Maybe... even though he could never truly repay such a debt, he could take the time to at least attempt to. He had little choice, anyways; she was the only person who he knew would not try to take Shio for herself or spill the beans to Satou as soon as she applied pressure like he had to Mitsuboshi.

So, to Shouko’s he would go, and he would pray that she’d buy the lie that he was a friend coming over for a sleepover. If not…

_I’ll take Shio and run, then. I’ll carry her all the way back home, if I have to._

_I’d endure anything…_

_Anything, for…_

_...my... family..._

With the soothing hum of the engines rumbling on in the background, Asahi finally fell into a fitful, restless sleep.

* * *

/\/\/~Kintsugi~\/\/\

* * *

“Hey, kid.”

Someone shook his body and Asahi immediately sat up from his position on the chairs, blinking in disorientation. “Wha-- what’s wrong? Where are we?”

The bus driver pointed to the door. “This is the last stop, buddy. Everyone else is gone, and I can’t leave you in here. You'd best get going."

Shaking the sleep out of his eyes and mumbling his thanks to the driver, Asahi hastily exited the vehicle, before letting out a shuddering breath.

For better or for worse, he had arrived.

Kana-Shi glimmered just the same as the city had in his last life, and Asahi was not sure whether to be thankful that had remained the same or whether to be disappointed.

_For a beautiful city, it sure has a lot of grime underneath._

...

As much as he wanted to, going to retrieve Shio now would be suicide; it was only around one-thirty, and Satou would definitely be home around this time, and any attempt to break in to that cursed apartment would be met with death on his part.

Asahi picked a path he knew would take him in the general direction of the city park and began to trudge down it. He would spend the night under one of the benches in that park, just like last time, then go stake out Shio’s location in the morning. _But first…_

Eventually finding, and wandering down a neighborhood, he found the aluminum baseball bat in the same place he had first found it, and his lips quirked upwards slightly. “At least some things in this damn city stay the same.”

Grabbing the bat, he began to walk again, slowly making his way across the city, heading to the park, before gradually coming to a halt.

_Even if I break Shio out tomorrow... where could we stay? She's sure as hell not going to spend the night outside... So where--_

The phone in his pocket suddenly felt heavy.

Asahi knew Shouko’s number. Knew it by memory, in fact, when she had made him swap numbers with her. It would be so, _so_ easy to just call her, despite the fact that, to her, he would just be some stranger who happened to possess her contacts.

_I shouldn’t._

His body decided to ignore him, the traitor, and he pulled out his phone and dialed her number, all the while scoffing internally as he did so. _Idiot! What’re the chances of her being up this time, anyways? And what does it matter?! You don’t know her in this life, and she doesn’t know you! There’s no point in--_

The ringing stopped, and Asahi froze.

_“H-hello? Who is this?”_

_She… answered._

Holding back a shuddering sigh (that in of itself was a boldfaced lie-- it was all the boy could do to keep himself from sobbing), Asahi answered back into the receiver. “I-- I’m sorry, this is--" A near sob wracked his throat suddenly, clogging up his words, and he shoved it back into his throat. "This was stupid. I'm sorry, I really shouldn’t have called. I’m gonna--” _hang up_ , his brain supplied, and he made to do so.

And then Shouko spoke again, and he stopped completely.

She only spoke one word, one _name_ , despite the fact that _she should not know it_ , and his breath froze in his lungs.

And, yet, it was Shouko's wavering voice that floored him, her voice that murmured back, stunned.

_"...Asahi?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do believe a POV change will be needed next chapter.


	5. Raven-Haired Numbness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shouko.

Her memories of her first day back were hazy, and most of what Shouko knew came from what her parents had told her.

From the little she remembered, it had started out normal enough-- she had woken up in her bed, as one was wont to do, and had gotten up to prepare for her day.

Then, abruptly, she emembered that she had died.

Shouko not only recalled, perfectly, mind you, the way she died, but how-- a pale hand muffling her screams, a knife to her throat, then _through it_ , and then a burning pain--

\--and then Shouko was reaching for said throat because all of a sudden the room was dark and cold and she was gasping for air because she _couldn’t breathe shecouldn'tbreatheSHECOULDNTBREATHE--_

At 7:03 on a Saturday morning, Shouko Hida went into cardiac arrest.

The only reason she had been discovered soon enough to have been given medical attention was due to the fact that her parents had already risen from bed and were arguing about yet another problem in the hallway just outside her room, so they had heard the thump caused from her fall from bed. Her mother’s paranoia for her health had been high since her fever when Shouko had been three, so she had immediately ceased paying attention to _whatever_ it was that had been the root of the argument and made to check on her.

The sight of her daughter suffocating on the floor in near-silence was not something she had truly expected, however.

Within ten minutes, paramedics were on-scene, thanks to her Shouko’s parents pulling some strings and shifting some money around, and successfully halted her premature death, although Shouko wasn’t sure she _wanted_ them to.

The girl hadn’t struggled against her lack of air, after all. Maybe that was a sign? Should she have been worried?

Maybe she might have been more shaken about the whole experience had she not already fallen to that method of death.

Maybe Shouko _was_ dead after all, and this was all just a dream in her death throes. Or the afterlife, maybe?

It certainly felt like it.

When Monday came and her parents insisted she attend school to keep up the ‘good girl’ façade, Shouko did so with no complaints, not that she could summon up the energy to do so anyways. She slogged through the school day as if trudging through waist-deep mud, yet always feeling as if every little thing that happened around her-- from the muffled conversations of the classmates, to her answering the teacher’s questions, to her deliberately avoiding Satou at any given opportunity-- was _detached_ from her.

She felt nothing, cared for nothing.

The lunch she had been packed tasted too bland. The chatter of the cafeteria was too loud. Satou’s staring eyes were too red.

Shouko was numb to it all.

* * *

/\/\/~Kintsugi~\/\/\

* * *

After school, she was confronted by the demon masquerading as her friend, somewhat surprisingly (or at least, it _would_ have been surprising had Shouko actually registered the emotion like regular people.

She hadn't).

The exact words Satou spoke to Shouko flew over her head, but she got the general gist of it.

_Are you alright, Shouko? You look pale, and you're not as lively as you usually are._

Shouko didn't have to hear the voice to recognize the false concern plastered all over her ~~friend's~~ face.

Were she actually in-sync with her emotions, Shouko might have felt some sort of indignant anger or rage at her killer for expressing concern over her wellbeing, but she wasn’t, so she didn’t.

She vaguely remembered telling Satou that she was fine and to drop the subject before she turned around to walk home.

Upon arriving home and assuring her parents with false smiles and fake platitudes, she went up to her room, did the work assigned by the teacher that day, and went to sleep, ignoring the salty stream of tears streaking down her cheeks.

* * *

/\/\/~Kintsugi~\/\/\

* * *

Shouko did the same thing the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

And on and on it went until Wednesday morning.

As it would turn out, her parents were not as incompetent in noticing the sullen change that had overcome her, and had granted her leave to spend the day off from classes. Having given her the choice to stay or go to school, they both left for their respective jobs, leaving Shouko alone with her thoughts.

Shouko wasn't sure whether to thank them or to curse them for that. Being left alone with no distractions meant there was nothing to keep her mind off the events of her past life.

She didn’t want to think of them.

She didn’t want to feel them.

...

...But she did so anyways.

Shouko pondered the choices that had brought her there; the friends she made, the mistakes she had created, and the last great deed in her life--

And then her muted thoughts ground to a halt, and, for the first time since waking up, her mind cleared with horror.

_Oh, gods. Shio._

She died because she wanted to help the purple-haired Prince in his quest to save his sister.

A quest that, if this was truly not a cursed afterlife, had been undone. Which meant that Asahi was right back to where he started in said quest.

And it was all her fault, wasn't it?

It had to be, right?

If she hadn’t been so naïve, so _trusting_ in the girl she thought her best friend, she wouldn’t be here. She would’ve taken the picture regardless, she knew, but she wouldn’t have stayed around long enough for Satou to--

The numbness threatened to encroach again, and Shouko tamped it down.

What had happened, after she had died? Had Asahi gotten her message? Had he saved his sister?

Or did he spend the rest of his days wandering in the wrong direction, looking for someone he would never find?

...

_What does it matter? Any progress he made was undone when I woke up._

Shouko smiled bitterly.

Yes, she decided.

This was her fault.

* * *

/\/\/~Kintsugi~\/\/\

* * *

The numbing sensation hung over Shouko's head for the rest day before she finally managed to break through it's poisonous veil on Thursday afternoon with the sudden decision that she would _not_ let herself lay down and die.

(Not yet, at least. Not until she had helped rectify her mistake.)

The raven-haired girl began to start throwing around plans in her mind on how to free Shio, preferably without alerting Satou to the fact.

Shouko had contemplated simply heading over to her apartment while Satou was working and break in to whisk Shio away, but even if she managed that, what then?

Shio couldn't stay here for long, Shouko knew. It would only be a matter of time before Satou comes over just to check that her recent coldness towards her was in no way related, and she doubted Shio’s ability to stay hidden from her once-friend. But, on the other end, where else could Shio stay? She had no idea when Asahi would show up underneath that park bench and had absolutely no way of knowing where Asahi’s mother was, or his father (didn’t he mention something about a bastard father?) for that matter.

The only thing left to link Shouko to her Black Prince was a phone number.

A number she had forgotten.

Why is it, whenever she needed ~~someone~~ something, ~~they~~ it was never there? Be it of the world or from the recesses of her own mind.

She spent the hours till Friday desperately racking her brain for any single digit that could bring her closer to Asahi, but in the end, only managed to recreate half the number, to her anguish.

In a fit of rage that she couldn’t recall feeling in what could have been years, she threw her phone against the wall, where it miraculously didn’t break.

Then she went to sleep.

She promised herself that she would not cry, this time.

(She lied).

* * *

/\/\/~Kintsugi~\/\/\

* * *

_My phone is ringing._

That was Shouko’s first subconscious thought as the buzz from her phone’s ringtone woke her up at some kami-forsaken hour in the morning, and she groaned slightly at the irritating noise. _Gods, the sun isn’t even up._ Looking at her digital clock, she noted with numbed annoyance (the numbness returning was not a good sign) that it was only one-thirty-seven in the morning.

_Who would call me at this time?_

Of her phone contacts, she had blocked all but her parents and her distant cousins numbers as of late; all the others had been hookups and flings she had taken a special liking to when she had been…

Well.

Since she had considered her Prince found, Shouko had no need for them, nor did she want to be associated with such things anymore, and had blocked and deleted the numbers.

_So who would..?_

Crawling out of bed, the raven-haired girl crossed the room to the wall she had phone her device against, before scooping it up and immediately turning back to her bad and jumping underneath the blankets, and only then did she look at the number--

Only to freeze upon seeing the first half of it.

The first half of Asahi’s number.

...

A treacherous part of her did not want to answer the call.

The world had shown her, time and time again, that all her hopes would eventually come crashing down before her; her relationship with her parents, her trust in Satou, ~~the prince she had spent so long looking for leaving with no intent to return~~ , and so much more. Yet, here she was, a forgotten number in her hands from the one person who shouldn't have hers.

But _gods_ , Shouko wanted to believe it was him.

It probably wasn't. They had never met in this life, not once. It shouldn't be him, it _couldn't._

_But it might._

Slowly, almost reluctantly and full of hesitation, Shouko pressed the answer button, and the call connected.

“H-hello? Who is this?”

There was hushed silence on the other end, and Shouko felt a stomach sink--

\--and then the response came through, and her heart _soared_.

_“I-- I’m sorry, this is--"_

_It’s him._

_Asahi. Asahi AsahiAsahi._

Did that mean she wasn’t the only one that had died? Did Asahi remember another life?

Did this mean she wasn’t alone?

_"--this is stupid,"_ she heard him speak over the silence, and Shouko felt her heart plummet.

_He-- he sounds as broken as I am._

_"I'm sorry, I really shouldn’t have called. I’m gonna--”_

_He's going to hang up._

_He's going to leave again._

Shouko could have let it go.

She could have let the boy hang up, and most likely never hear from him again. She could forget the situation with his sister, forget that same sister was partially responsible for her death (not that she blamed Shio, no). She could go back to living a seemingly regular life, and go on about her night and sleep. She could go back to school the next day, content with her life, and go about life as a teenager her age was supposed to.

Shouko didn’t want that.

At that moment, the only person she wanted was on the other end of line.

So, she answered.

“...Asahi?”

_Don't go, don't go, don't leave again._

There the other end of the line was still, for a moment.

Then, on the other side, her Prince let out a strangled sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time; the long awaited reunion.
> 
> In unrelated news, I'm going to try to start responding to reviews now. Shouldn't be too hard...


	6. Long Awaited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Red String unites two halves once again.

Shouko was not an idiot. 

She knew, very well, midn you, that some illness (and ‘some illness’ Shouko hoped it would remain, for she refused to label it) had plagued her mind since she had awoken again after dying. She recognized the numbness for what it was, and what it meant. Of course, just because she could recognize it didn't mean she could bring herself to _do_ anything about it, however-- the few times she had actually managed to regain feeling for some reason or other, her mind had been preoccupied with other things, and every other time, the cold curtain that fell upon her and blocked out much of the world around her made Shouko’s mind too hazy to ascertain what to do.

Asahi’s voice dispelled that veil, for some reason.

It had taken all she had to not break into tears upon hearing her Prince’s ragged, broken voice on the other end of the receiver, though thankfully, Asahi seemed to recover quickly from whatever had gripped him, at least long enough to tell her (beg her, really, and Shouko wasn't sure what to make of that) that he needed a place to stay for a while.

Shouko wasted no time in inviting the violet-eyed boy over, despite the fact that it was just past midnight and such a situation would be difficult to explain to her parents, seeing as she had been smart enough never to bring the boys she had been fooling around with home (and whenever she thought back to those days, her heart sank a little bit lower. She would have to tell Asahi of that someday, but how? Would he still think good of her if she did? Would he be disgusted with her? Would he stay if she told him?), but how could she _not_ invite Asahi here? This wasn't like the first time they had met in that park, no. They weren't strangers, though they should be.

Asahi remembered! He knew and he _remembered!_ He called _her!_ He _needed_ her!

~~She was wanted!~~

How could she turn him away? Her Prince had finally come to her, beyond all conceivable odds, and Shouko would never let him go again without a fight.

So, she had thrown herself out of her bed, tiptoed out of her room, and quietly made her way downstairs. An easy task, given that her parents were asleep and were unllikely to wake at this godforsaken hour.

That is how Shouko found herself waiting in front of the back door, sitting by the nearby table, a mug of mango juice in hand and another waiting on the table besides her. Before she had been forced to end the conversation over the phone, for Asahi’s phone was running on low power, Shouko had given the violet-haired boy the number code to pass the gate to the back of their property, and she had taken the precaution to temporarily disable the alarms, something she had learned to do during her formerly-frequent nighttime galivanting, and unlocked the back door as it was, leaving it closed, but ready to be opened at the slightest notice.

And now she waited, staring longingly at the door. 

Oh, no doubt, Shouko could have gone back to bed for a half-hour or soand caught a much-needed nap, seeing as Asahi appeared to be a good few miles away from her house, and yet...

  
Asahi was close. He was so, _so close,_ and from what she remembered from their first and only kiss, he was warm, soft. Lively.

Her bed, in contrast, was cold. Alone.

She was cold enough already without that reminder.

...at least, if she was to be alone, she wanted to be alone with him. Shouko didn’t mind that at all, really. In fact, she cherished the thought.

_Although_ , Shouko thought to herself morosely, _I’ve been alone for longer than I’ve realized, haven’t I?_

Satou was no friend of hers, and Shouko didn’t really think she ever truly had been-- at least, if Satou _had_ been genuine, those feelings had faded after she had found Shio. Her parents barely made time for her, and the most she had seen them in one room without sitting in tense silence or quietly arguing with one another was the day she woke up after her heart attack. The few _other_ friends she held at school were superficial, at best, save a few whom Shouko had done her best to avoid in classes these past few days due to her coping with having _died_ and come back ( _wrong_ , a part of her whispered) in what, to her, barely felt like a day, then nearly dying again.

The only other companions Shouko actually had were the boys she had formerly galivanted with, and they were, at best, mere acquaintances formed after hookups, and her cousins who visited every year or so for two weeks, and Shouko hadn’t spoken to them since the last time she had seen them.

For a person living in a bustling city, she was oh, so alone.

But… maybe…

Maybe that purple-haired prince could could fill that empty void in her life.

_Gods,_ Shouko hoped he wanted to.

The girl’s morose thoughts were abruptly cut in two by the sound of knocking at the door, and Shouko shot up from her seat.

_He… he came._

Asahi was here.

With no hesitation whatsoever, Shouko strode forward to open the door.

* * *

He had been standing there for five minutes, and yet his hand had never touched the knob.

When Shouko's voice crackling from over the speaker re-affirmed to him that _no, this was not a dream, this is real, all of it, you are not hallucinating_ , Asahi had found himself unable to speak for fear that's he'd begin to cry with no end in sight. He had stood there, in the middle of an empty sidewalk, saying nothing but the barest responses just so he could listen to her voice for just a bit longer.

Oh, how Asahi had taken her for granted in his last life. He had foolishly thought, that day he had departed for the bullet-train, that he could return to visit Shouko upon finding Shio, wherever she was, and they could talk and laugh and do everything else friends were supposed to do.

...That was, Asahi presumed, what friends were for.

It was hard to tell, seeing as he had none.

Disregarding his morose thoughts, Asahi had been hesitant to knock and announce his presence for some time now, and he knew exactly why.

Was it right to impose himself on her? What right did he have? Did he _deserve_ to have that right? Did Shouko deserve to have to deal with him and his problems?

Was it not his problems that led her to die?

Asahi didn’t know the answers to any but the last of those questions, and it was an answer he hated to think about, because the answer was no.

It wasn’t Asahi’s problems that led to Shouko’s death. To blame his problems would give them too much credit that was underserved.

The blame fell to him and him alone.

A part of him knew that what he was doing was unreasonable. It hadn’t been him that had wrenched the life from Shouko’s body, nor had it been him that had set her body aflame. A small part of Asahi knew was not truly to blame.

The rest of Asahi thought otherwise, and Asahi himself agreed with that sentiment.

_I should leave. She doesn’t deserve to have to deal with me._

Yet, there he stood, undecided.

His mind was creaming at him to leave, yet begging him to stay. Asahi wanted to give in to the half that told him to flee--

\--but to flee was to leave Shouko behind, and he had done that once before.

To leave this place-- to leave her-- was to resign himself to loneliness, and he had walked that path before. It had led to nothing but pain and loathing and death.

  
  
_Never again.  
_

  
  
What he was about to do wasn’t for Shio. It wasn't for his mother. It wasn’t for his family.

_This is just for me._

Asahi raised his hand and brought it to the door, before rapping his knuckles twice. There was silence for a moment, as Asahi stood there in the darkness.

Then the door opened, and there she stood.

* * *

The two stared at each other for a moment in the stillness that followed, both somehow unbelieving of the sight before them. Two pairs of eyes, though they did not move, studied the other relentlessly, memorizing every detail they could in an effort to never forget the other again.

For a moment, a strange sort of peace descended on them.

Then Shouko brought her hands to Asahi’s cheeks and cupped them, before gently caressing his face, seemingly awestruck.

“...Your bandages are gone,” she whispered hoarsely, and Asahi felt something in him break, and he pushed himself forward, through the door and wrapping his outstretched arms around Shouko and hugging her for all he was worth.

At the same time, whatever calmness that had befallen Shouko since the phone call shattered completely, and she clung to her prince just as tightly as he clung to her.

_“_ You… this is real, right?” Shouko heard the boy murmur, almost desperately. “This isn’t some kind of dream? I... I’m not going to wake up right now and remember that you’re--”

She nodded her head quickly, knowing what he meant to say and she felt him fail to stifle a sob. 

“I’m sorry,” he wept into her shoulder, _“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry--_ ”

And, though she did not blame Asahi for the sins he thought himself responsible for, Shouko's only response was to cry alongside him.

"I'm sorry too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm might add more to this chapter later, considering this is less than what I wanted, but I want to give you guys this before Christmas.


	7. Sleeping Hours

Somehow, Shouko managed to maneuver them upstairs and into her room without breaking their embrace.

It wasn’t as if she was incapable of breaking the hug, no-- Shouko could have easily let go of Asahi had it been required. She did not let go because she _would not_ let go. 

Against all the odds, her prince had come straight to her, and she was not going to take his presence for granted.

By the time they had reached her room, Asahi had stop his fervent apologies (there was nothing he needed to apologize for in her eyes), and Shouko had, thankfully, managed to halt her sobs.

There was no real reason to cry anymore, was there? Asahi was here. They were together.

The two teens finally broke their embrace when Shouko sat Asahi down on her bed before quickly joining him, though neither felt compelled to release the other’s hand. _I’ll hold on to that, if nothing else._

…

Had they been any other people, such a silence as the one that had fallen upon them might have been uncomfortable or awkward.

That was not the case for them.

The two just sat there, simply content to drink in the sight of the other. Shouko’s hands once more reached towards Asahi’s unbandaged cheeks (he looked better without them, she decided,) caressing his face in her palms for a moment. Asahi shuddered and leaned into the touch, shuffling closer to herm and their shoulders pressed together.

_He’s warm,_ she noted, and it wasn’t until Asahi’s own hands lifted to wipe away her tears that Shouko realized that she had started crying again-- and, through blurred eyes, she saw tears streaking down his face as well.

Asahi opened his mouth again, seemingly about to say something, only for Shouko to lean over and wrap him in a hug again, effectively silencing him long enough for her to break the silence first.

“Did you die too?”

Her prince was silent for a moment longer before Shouko felt him nod quietly against her neck, and Shouko trembled slightly.

She had failed, then. Her sacrifice hadn’t been enough, and Asahi had payed for it.

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

_It should have been me._

Shouko was about to voice her morose thoughts aloud to the boy, and opened her mouth to do so--

\--only to end up yawning instead, to her mortification, and she immediately withdrew from Asahi’s arms in embarrassment (an action that she just-as-immediately regretted). Asahi, on the other, turned away with a apologetic look on his face. “...Maybe we should talk in the morning? It’s kinda late… Sorry about that, by the way.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, something Shouko took note of for some reason, especially the way the movement exposed more of his--

_Mind out of the gutter, Shouko. Not now._

“Don’t worry about it,” she responded instantly, “I wasn’t sleeping anyways.” A lie, because she was, but Asahi was more important than sleep anyways. Shouko could sleep any time of the day if needed, but Asahi’d had every chance of not coming here before he had made the decision to call her.

But... “Yeah, you had a point, though. It is pretty late.” It was only dawning on her now how tired she really was. _To much emotional baggage for one night._

So, discarding her thoughts, she let herself fall back onto her bed before shuffling into the blankets, before looking back up to Asahi, who hadn’t moved and was staring at her for some reason.

“Uh… you have a spare bed or something? If not, I can sleep on the floor.” The boy shrugged, to her dismay. “It’s not bad once you get used to it.”

Shouko blinked, before sitting up indignantly. “Wha-- _no_ , you’re not sleeping on the floor Asahi! This isn’t the park, we have beds here. Only…” she trailed off for a moment. “We have one guest room, but the bed isn’t set. It’s usually brought out for my cousins when they visit. So…”

Shuffling over to one side of her bed, Shouko made room for Asahi. “There’s plenty of space on my bed, so you can have that side.”

She wasn’t lying when she said that-- her bed was almost queen-sized (her parents indulge in some things, could you blame her?) and there was plenty of space for another person.

Of course, Shouko could always just grab one of the spare futons from out of the closet, but…

Asahi was right there. And warm. Very, very warm-- their hugs had proved it. 

She wanted that warmth. She wanted him, to be specific. She wanted him to hold her, keep her safe, be the gallant prince that she’d always dreamed would come and save her--

\--- _but a prince can’t save anyone if he himself needs saving, can he?_

Asahi was hurt, that much she knew, from the sobbed apologies and the singular nod that confirmed his death, and Shouko wanted to help him, just like in her last life. She wanted to ~~make up for her failure~~ be there for him where she hadn’t last time, keep him warm and fed and safe, off the dirt park paths. She wanted to keep him alive.

She wanted many things, but, at that moment, all she wanted to do was fall asleep with someone besides her. So she waited for Asahi’s answer.

“Are you sure that’s okay? I could always just sleep on the--” the violet-haired boy cut himself off at Shouko’s glared and chuckled nervously. “R-right, no sleeping on the floor then.” He was silent for a moment, contemplating, and Shouko silently held her breath, only letting out a relieved sigh when Asahi nodded yes. “I brought some PJs, so, if you have a bathroom I can borrow…”

“Aah, two doors down on the left.”

Asahi smiled, and Shouko made sure to emblazoned the image in her mind, seeing as Asahi had rarely smiled in her presence in their last life. 

She swore it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. 

“Thanks, Shouko.”

And she smiled back.

* * *

_Shouko is pretty._

Objectively, Asahi had noted the fact (for it was a fact) several times before, most prominently when she had kissed him. He wondered if she ~~wanted to kiss him again~~ had always been beautiful or if it was just a highschool thing, though he quickly discarded the thought. It didn’t really matter, did it? Not to him, at least.

Shouko was beautiful, that was a fact.

It was also why he was anxious about sleeping in her bed. As far as he could tell, that just wasn’t a thing friends did (Shouko was his friend, right?) and just thinking about it set off butterflies in his chest. Though, now that he really thought about it, what was there to be worried about? They were just tired, and since there was no other bed Asahi had no other place to sleep (because she barred him from sleeping on the floor for some reason, it wasn’t that bad… after a while...), her bed was the only logical choice.

So Asahi shrugged away the butterflies, changed, and returned to Shouko’s room, where she sat waiting. Upon catching sight of him, she smiled again, and Asahi’s heart melted a bit more. Any doubts he had harbored about calling her were quickly fading away. 

While, yeah, the guilt would probably return tomorrow ( _'Did you die **too** ,'_ she asked, which meant she _had_ , all because of him) due to the fact that he was far too tired to think about it now, right now, Asahi didn’t mind.

Flicking off the light and climbing atop the covers, Asahi lay down, facing away from Shouko. There was only so much he could take without his face turning red, after all.

There was a calm quiet, for a moment, before Shouko murmured something.

“‘Night, Asahi.”

“...’Night, Shouko.”

Tomorrow would bring all its problems, but for eight hours, they had nothing but themselves and the bliss of sleep.

And sleep they did.

* * *

In the morning, they would find their hands had found each other in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is done. So we move into the meat of the plot.
> 
> Man, writing angst-fluff is tiring.


End file.
